


Teamwork

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, First Date, Held at Gunpoint, Hostage Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

A bead of sweat dropped to the floor. Then another. And another.

After an hour at the punching bag, you were covered in sweat, but you were an hour stronger. An hour closer to beating the unsub’s asses with no fear. As you unwrapped the bandages around your hands, you looked up, watching as Spencer finished up reps that Morgan had put together for him so he could strengthen his arms. He was developing some actual guns; he looked awesome. You found yourself staring a little longer than was necessary. 

A year ago, he had asked you out, but you’d let him down easily, saying that it wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him (you were), it was because you worked together and were really good friends and you didn’t want to put any of that at risk. But more and more lately, you had found yourself wondering what it would be like to date the good doctor.

“How do you do that?” Spencer asked, staring in awe at your sweaty frame hunched over at the punching bag. “I could never do that. I’d die.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up from the bag and packing up your things to go hop in the gym’s shower. “Sorry, not sorry,” you said, “I’m just amazing.”

“That you are,” he replied, picking up his own gym bag and heading towards the other locker room. “Badass and intelligent. It’s a wonder they still keep me here,” he joked.

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” you said, punching him in the arm. “We have different areas of specialty. That’s why we’re both here. We all need each other.”

Before you headed toward the showers, you stood there talking with Spencer, noticing that he kept looking up and down at you. “Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure, Spence. What is it?”

“When I asked you out last year, you said that you didn’t want to pursue a relationship because we worked together and because we were friends and you didn’t want to mess things up,” he said.

“Yea, I did,” you replied.

“If it didn’t matter if we worked together, would you be more willing to go out with me?” he wondered. “Or would the fact that we’re friends be enough to keep you from going out with me?”

You’d thought about that last year when he’d asked you out. Your work situation was the bigger part of it - you didn’t want a relationship with him to ruin the job you’d worked toward getting your entire life. You added the whole friends excuse because at the time you hadn’t been interested in a relationship with anyone and couldn’t find a way to tell Spencer that. “Honestly, I added the friends thing because I didn’t know how to tell you I didn’t want to be with anyone at that time. Work is the major thing that keeps me from going out with you.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “So if theoretically I were to clear it with say, Hotch, that a date or relationship between us wouldn’t have an impact on our jobs, you would be interested?”

You shook your head. “Yea. I’ve always thought you were attractive, Spence. And insanely intelligent and nice and all that wonderful shit. I just wasn’t interested in anyone at the time and I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Well, I think you’re amazing and I’ve wanted to go out with you for a while, as you already know,” he said as you laughed. “So if I clear it with Hotch?”

“Then you get to take me out,” you said, putting your hands out as if to say ‘you lucky duck.’

———–

A week later, Hotch had cleared the possibility of you and Spencer dating. As long as everything remained professional in the office and you were both still able to do your jobs, there would be no issues. 

Spencer practically skipped out of the office when you’d been cleared. “So I assume that smile means there won’t be any issues?”

“Yup,” he replied happily. “Tonight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

—

Later that evening, you and Spencer met up at the Italian restaurant near his apartment. It was a very low-key place, so you both wore jeans and a t-shirt. Everything was going spectacularly well. You felt at ease, like being with a friend that you kind of wanted to fuck, which to you was the best way to be in a relationship. After play fighting over who would pay for dinner (you finally agreed on splitting it evenly), you negated the whole argument by returning the bill and order dessert. 

“We’ll still split it evenly,” you laughed, as someone barged in the back door.

“Everybody, down!” he yelled, taking a pistol from each of his pockets and shooting them once in the air. Immediately, most of the patrons in the restaurant dropped to the floor, screaming and panicking about what to do.

“What do we do?” Spencer asked, as you both kneeled down on the floor.

“You don’t have your gun do you?” you asked, reaching to the back of you jeans for your own and handing it to him. “Cover me.”

Popping up from the table you were seated at, you held your hands at the sides of your head. “What do you want?” you asked him. He was a white man, probably around his mid-30s, black hair, blue eyes and a silver Smith & Wesson .45 Caliber pistol in each hand; the guns were American-made, showy…so he was a narcissist, liked the look and the status the name gave him. Other guns were cheaper, smaller to conceal and better made, but he stuck to these for some reason.

“I want someone to pay!” he screamed, shooting another bullet in the air. You didn’t flinch.

“Pay for what, sir. Is there something I can help you with?” you said, hoping that calling him sir would appeal to his need for his seeming need for superiority.”

“I was fired for no reason and my bitch of wife left me,” he screamed.

“Where were you fired from?” you asked, trying to gain any information you possibly could. As he waved the guns around in the air with a crazy look in his eyes, he explained that he was fired from a pharmaceutical company. He claimed it was for no reason, but you knew for a fact that the company was going under and was laying off people in all departments if they had been hired recently; they wanted to keep their senior employees who knew the job well, instead of training newbies, so it was nothing personal. Thousands of other people were in the same position. “What happened with your wife?” Again, he went on a tangent. From what you could deduce in a matter of a few minutes, he was one of those guys that felt like the world owed him something and that he was infallible. “What can I help you with? What can I do for you that’ll keep things calm?”

“Nothing,” he screamed, pointing the gun directly at your head. “People have to die!” The patrons in the restaurant started screaming and crying, but you held you hand back, silently telling them to calm down. He started to run the gun through your hair. “You know, you remind me of her. My wife,” he breathed into your hair.

“How about I come with you and you leave everyone else alone?” you offered, turning your body in a way that would hopefully leave Spencer a shot once you turned around. He took you up on your offer, but instead of turning around and leaving his back unprotected, he pulled you back, using you as a shield. He may be a narcissist, but he wasn’t stupid.

Spencer had a panicked look his eyes, but you nodded slightly, telling him you were about to attack him. You were now at the back of the restaurant where no one was standing, which meant if you could pin his hand to the wall immediately, you would be able to shoot the remaining rounds into the wall, ensuring you wouldn’t put anyone else in danger.

With one swift movement, you elbowed the man in the face and then the joint where his arm met his right shoulder. The gun in his right hand dropped to the floor, so you spun around, grabbing his left arm and slamming it into the wall repeatedly until he dropped that one as well. You’d kicked the guns out of the way, so now all he had were his fists and you knew you could beat him there. In one moment, he got the upper hand, knocking you backwards and into the wall. Before you were able to get up, Spencer had entered into the fight, picking up a barstool and knocking him out with it. “Nice work, Dr. Reid,” you said, picking up his guns from the floor and training them on him.

A little out of breath, Spencer lifted his hand up and you high-fived him. “We make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” he said, pulling the handcuffs out of your bag and detaining him. “But this is not what I planned for our first date. Next one won’t suck. Movies and takeout?”

“Yes please."


End file.
